


Something Impulsive

by WitchyBee



Category: Grand Theft Auto V
Genre: Alcohol, Ending A, Gen, Guns, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Post-Game(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-18
Updated: 2013-10-18
Packaged: 2017-12-29 18:15:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1008501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WitchyBee/pseuds/WitchyBee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yet he is surprised when a figure steps out from behind some bushes, holding a gun with both shaking hands. The weapon is aimed in Michael’s general direction. There are tears in Ron’s eyes, big and pathetic behind his glasses.</p><p>“All right,” Michael says calmly, raising his hands to indicate that he is currently unarmed. “Seriously, what the fuck is this?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Impulsive

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place post-game, spoilers for Ending A (Something Sensible, aka the one where Trevor dies.) Michael's behavior during and after that ending really frustrated me. Anyway, Ron sends Michael a text message blaming him for Trevor's death, and since I keep being inspired to write fics about Ron...that's how this happened. It's just a little drabble.

It starts with a text.

Michael vaguely remembers meeting Ron during those awful few weeks they all spent hiding out in Trevor’s digusting trailer in Sandy Shores. Ron was Trevor’s...friend? Business partner? Personal servant? He didn’t fucking know. 

The guy was clearly scared to death of T, acting like a meek little insect whenever the psycho was around. Even when he wasn’t, Ron still defended him. Alone with Michael, he was more bold, bringing up shit he had no right to pretend to understand.

In hindsight, Michael supposed he should’ve expected more than just an angry text message from the little pest.

Yet he is surprised when a figure steps out from behind some bushes, holding a gun with both shaking hands. The weapon is aimed in Michael’s general direction. There are tears in Ron’s eyes, big and pathetic behind his glasses. 

Michael’s first instinct is to be enraged...but it’s difficult when he realizes that, considering all the people who have tried to kill him recently, this attempt is just sad. Since he is officially retired now and Trevor’s dead, this guy is probably the last who will ever point a gun at him. It’s a little disappointing.

“All right,” Michael says calmly, raising his hands to indicate that he is currently unarmed. “Seriously, what the fuck is this?”

“I don’t know! I’m drunk, and I’m angry, and I have nothing!” Ron screams at him. “The business is fucked! I’ve got no money ‘cause my ex-wife took everything I had! My best friend is dead and so is yours but you don’t give a shit! You never gave a shit about him! And you know what? You didn’t deserve his friendship, you miserable traitor!”

“Hey, hey, that’s enough, you little shit! Now keep your fuckin’ voice down. My family’s asleep upstairs. Look, I don’t think you really want to shoot me.”

“Fuck you!” Ron yells, but his nerve is fading fast. “I just...I-I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“Then give me the gun.” Michael holds out his hand. After several moments of hesitation, Ron finally does what he’s told, still crying silently. “Listen carefully, ‘cause right now I’m gonna offer you a chance I don’t give most people who come to my home and threaten me or my family. Luckily for you, Ronald, you’re not very threatening. I think you realize that you were upset, had too much to drink, and you made a mistake. We both know you won’t make that same mistake twice, will you?”

“No, sir, I-I won’t.”

“Good. That’s why I’m letting you walk away from this. Go home, sleep it off, and if I ever see you again...I might not be so forgiving.”

Michael turns to head back inside the house. Apparently Ron isn’t quite done being stupid yet, though.

“I meant it, you know. He was better than you. Sure, Trev had his faults, but he was the most loyal friend a guy could ask for. There was nobody he cared about more than you, but all you ever did was lie and betray him! I’m glad I didn’t kill you, ‘cause now you get to live with that!”

“First of all, I told you to keep your voice down,” he snaps, turning back to face Ron. “Secondly, what the fuck don’t you understand about one chance to leave quietly? I still have your gun.”

“Then why don’t you fucking shoot me?” His eyes are no longer tearful, just desperate and lost.

“I’m trying to break old habits. Don’t throw your life away, especially not for Trevor’s sake,” Michael sighs. “Now...leave.”

“Fine. I hope all this was worth it, Townley.”

That’s the last he sees of Ron. Michael enters the house. There’s a bottle of whiskey sitting invitingly on the kitchen table. He sets the gun down and pours a large glass, welcoming the familiar self-hatred that washes over him. He doesn’t want to think about everything Ron said, but he can’t deny the truth of it anymore.

He'd been an idiot to assume he could simply walk away from his friend's charred remains and move on. It's not going to be that easy, after all. It never is.


End file.
